Just Breathe
by xbeautifulxlifex
Summary: Lauren Carlson goes to Rivermound High and hates it with a passion. In fact, she pretty much hates her whole life with a passion. But life is soon about to change forever. The question is, will it be for the better or for worse........
1. Sick of All the Same Routines

BEEP BEEP BEEP. BEEP BEEP BEEP.You have got to be kidding me. BEEP BEEP BEEP. BEEP BEEP BEEP.No, I am not getting up. BEEP BEEP BEEP. BEEP BEEP-

"Lauren Leanne Carlson, turn that alarm off now and get your butt out of that bed."

"You wanna make me," I mumbled into my pillow.

"What was that?" Mom asked in a tone of annoyance.

"Nothing...nothing..."

"Good, now get ready for school," she said before walking back down the hall, not bothering to shut the door.

I rolled over, taking my time so as to delay starting another day. Honestly, I could think of 10,000 other things I would rather do than go to Rivermound Highschool this morning.

I got out of bed and closed my hazel eyes, breathing in the fresh air coming from my open window. The moment of peacefulness was broken by a voice I had grown to hate.

"Mom, I don't know what I'm going to do if I failed the Science exam. There was this one question..." and my sister, Alesa's, voice trailed off.

Disgusted, I closed the door. Alesa had always achieved more than me. Perfect in every way. Flawless. She pleases everyone and is my parents' pride and joy. I'm far from being as perfect as her. And I don't care. That's what I always tell myself, but why than does jealousy tug at my insides every time I hear her name?

I took off the grey T-Shirt I had worn that night and threw it across the room in annoyance.

I grabbed a pair of jeans I had purposely ripped around the knees and pulled them on, my dirty blond hair falling in my face. I brushed it away hastily.

I heaved a sigh as I remembered Matthew McCurry is supposed to tutor me in Algebra today. Just what I need, someone telling me how stupid I am when it comes to the ugly lettres x and y. I swear, if he tells me one more time that if I don't start studying every night I will fail in life, I'm gonna punch him in that pretty face of his.

Matthew is considered one of the best looking boys at Rivermound, but he's not just a prety face like most guys. He's smart. Too smart. And he knows it, believe me. At least my sister doesn't rub her intelligence in everyone's face. I forced my sister out of my mind.

I opened my closet which was a mess of unfolded T-Shirts and jeans. I snatched my green jacket and zipped it halfway up, over my white T-Shirt.

I heaved a big yawn. God, I feel tired. I must not have gotten to bed till about one last night, attempting to finish the homework McCurry had assigned me. Attempting being the key word there. And besides who is he to give me homework? My thoughts were interrupted by the familiar squeak of my door opening. Startled by the unexpected squeak, I turned around. My mom was in the doorway looking as annoyed as ever.

"Lauren, pick up the pace and get out of the front door. I am not in the mood for getting a call from Mr. Longo about how you've been twenty minuets late to his class five days in a row again." And for the second time she went back up the hallway and left the door wide open

I tied my wavy hair back, letting my side bangs fall in my face. I really couldn't care less about Mr. Longo, my Algebra teacher. Is it really my fault I sleep late. I spotted my eyeliner on the floor and quickly applied it under my eyes. I didn't really care if it wasn't perfect. It was the only makeup I ever wore.

As I put on the eyeliner voices could be heard clear down the hall way.

"Mom, the mail truck's here," my sister muttered.

I paused, one eye outlined. I sensed a hint of alertness in Alesa's voice. I strained my ears to hear the conversation.

I heard a chair scrape against the wooden floor in the kitchen, as if Mon had sharply stood up.

"I'll go get it," Mom said "Before-"

Mom's words were drowned out by the roar of a leaf blower coming from the neighbor's yard through the open window.

"Come on..." I said out loud. "Nice Timing!" I shouted out the window merely in frustration than in the hopes of my neighbor hearing me.

Now officially in a bad mood I applied the eye liner to my left eye.

It must've been about three years now since the whole mail thing had started. In my house, the Mail Truck had always been a mysterious thing. I couldn't remember the last time I had gotten the mail. Every time someone mentioned letter, mail box, or mail turck, my mom would choke on whatever she was drinking and quickly change the subject. I had thought over the strangeness of it all countless of times and had settled on this theory:

One of my mom's old, high school friends got apprehended by a mail man around the time this had all started.

I laughed out loud at the thought. Who gets apprehended by mail men? But it was the only explanation I could think of. But all the mail men I've ever seen have been the whimpiest looking guys ever. I have a feeling my Great Aunt Wilma could take on any mail man any day.

My brain numb from puzzling over the pointless mystery, I swung my book bag over my shoulder and was out the door. I walked right past the kitchen where Alisa and Mom were. I didn't bother getting a bite to eat, I wasn't hungry. I was never hungry in the morning. It's not like i could spare the time, anyway.

I opened the front door and immediately squinted as my eyes made contact with the burst of sunlight that shined bright in my face. I shielded my face with my hand and shut the door behind me as I stepped out side.

I always walked to school. The bus is always rowdy and bothersome and I preferred walking anyway.

It was one bright, sunny, day. I suppose that's a good thing. I guess. It could get depressing.

As I walked on I gazed at the ground. I noticed my converse, filthy with the laces fraying from use. They were the only shoes I wore and you could tell. The state of them didn't bother me at all. It was the way I liked them. I'll probably wear them till the soles fell off.

I kept walking along the side of the quiet street. I noticed a little girl, around six I guessed, with what looked like her dad. The little girl wore a big, pink, backpack that was about half the size of her. I supposed her dad was walking her to the bus stop which was just a few blocks back down the street.

I had never known by dad. Not well anyway. My parents had gotten a divorce when I was about five. I remembered they were always arguing. Always. But I was too little to understand what they were fighting about. I wish I knew what caused them to get a divorce. But I never dared myself to ask mom, and I don't think I ever will.

I passed a few more, small, suburban, houses with their unnaturally green lawns and trees with leaves of red, orange, yellow, and an occasional brown.

I came to Brooke Street and sighed heavily, giving the sky a dirty look. I always dreaded Brooke Street because I knew once I came to it, in a matter of minuets I would find myself in the place I hated the most. School.

I walked left onto Brooke Street. The school was huge. It stretched around the corner both ways. The main entrance was farther ahead. I never used the main entrance. I always went through one of the side doors.

The side entrance I always used was just a matter of yards away. I stopped walking; my eyes fixed on the double doors. What if I just didn't come to school today? What would happen if I cut school and just hung around Auntie M's Ice Cream Parlor for the day? I know what would happen. The school would call my house and I'll be grounded for a month.

I laughed silently. It's not like I ever did anything anyway. Although, I would miss going for walks in the rain, with my walkman of course. I guess there's no way out of it. I trudged on and reached the small parking lot outside the back doors.

I ignored the people chatting happily about who knows what stupid crap and they ignored me. I pushed open the doors.

I was beginning to regret not going to Auntie M's Ice Cream Parlor already.


	2. I'm Not In Anything With Anyone

I strolled through the halls with my right hand on the strap of my bookbag and my left hand swinging slightly by my side, glaring back at whoever glared at me.

"Lauren! Hey Lauren, wait up!" yelled a familiar voice from not far behind me.

A skinny girl with shoulder length brown hair and glasses ran up next to me.

"Hey, Tori," I said, turning my head slightly as she walked beside me.

"So what's happening?" Tori asked energeticly. I don't think I remembered a time when she wasn't energetic. But that was Tori.

"Um, nothing," I said bluntly.

Did she really expect my pathetic life to change over night?

"Oh," she said cheerfully, unwrattled by the fact that I replyed in the same way everyday.

"Well, I'm writing a new novel called The Diary of Emily Rose. I came up with the idea last night. I've decided to get ideas for characters from the people around me."

"Mmmhmm," I said to let her know I was listening. At least sort of listening.

She started rumaging through her leather book bag she wore daily.

"Look," Tori said excitedly. "It's where I'm going to write all the ideas and facts about my characters as I acknowledge the people around me."

"Tori, that's the same note book you've been writing all your thoughts and opinions in since the beggining of the year."

"Oh yea! I forgot. My bad!" Tori said smiling brightly as she clicked her pen open and began writing away.

I slowed to a stop at my locker. I opened my locker, my hands automaticly doing the combination, 16, 26, 16.

"You know, you should really decorate your locker, color it up a bit," Tori said glancing at the white walls of my locker.

"Tori, have you ever seen me 'color' anything up? I'm not wasting my time plastering my text book space with pictures of too-rich-for-their-own-good celebritys."

"Mmm, I suppose," she said her brows furrowed as she opened the door of her locker wich happened to be right next to mine.

I had met Tori at the beggining of the year on our first day at the high school. We had both been patheticly lost and at least ten minuets late for social studies. We eventually found our way to the classroom, twenty minuets late into the period.

I considered Tori a friend. I guess. She's nice, but she can get on my nerves. But she's the only person I care to talk to in this damn place. So I guess my day would be pretty different without her.

Tori chooses not to hang out with all the fake people, that being the majority of the teenagers in this school. A very smart choice in my opinion. So I guess you can say Tori and I are in it together. No. No, I'm not in anything with anyone.

I took my Science text book out of my locker so I wouldn't have to go to my locker for a few periods. I shut my locker and waited immpatiently for Tori to close her locker too.

It was all her idea. The whole-waiting-for-her-at-her-locker-thing. I wasn't exactly thrilled with the idea as I can be a very impatient person in certain situations.

I stood there for a few seconds, Tori's head hidden behind her locker door.

"C'mon, are you coming or not?" I asked her impatiently.

"Yup," Tori said, her voice bairly understandable because of something clearly in her mouth.

She finally shut her locker revealing that a lolly pop was already in her mouth.

"It took you three minuets to pop a lolly pop in your mouth?" I asked, amused.

She took the lolly pop out of her mouth and giggled.

"No, of coarse not, I just couldn't find the flavor I wanted," she said as if that was a perfectly good reason.

There was rarely a time you would see Tori without some form of candy in her mouth.

As we walked to Algebra, which was just a few doors down the hall I heard alot of yelling coming from an unpleasant voice.

"Who is that Stephanie bitching at now?" Tori asked, a disgusted look on her face as she looked to the far side of the hall.

I followed her gaze down the hall and saw Stephanie shrieking at some girl much shorter than her."

"It looks like her cousin again," I said. Stephanie was always found yelling at her cousin, Amy, for no good reason.

Stephanie Cohlear is possibly the biggest you-know-what at Rivermound. She honestly doesn't care about anyone but herself and her reputation. Sure, most people would say she has a huge amount of friends; but the term 'friends' isn't used the same way anymore. Stephanie has been known to act one way to your face and than go and say a bunch of crap about you behind your back. And let's just say, she's got an attitude and knows how to use it.

Unlike so many other people in this stupid school, I don't think she's anything special. She's no different that all the other two-faced stuckups that inhabit this place people call a school, except

I hate her more.

I walked into the classroom, feeling the warm air elope me and in a matter of seconds I had a sudden urge to take off my jacket. Why Mr. Longo kept the heat up so high was a mystery.

"Is it just me, or is it a tad warm here?" Tori asked fanning herself with her notebook.

I ignored her.

I was very tempted to open a window in the back of the classroom to let in some chilly, November, air in the stuffy classroom but thougt better of it. Mr. Longo positively hated it when students touched objects in his voice that weren't desks. Not that I cared. I just wasn't in the mood to land myself in detention for the seventh time this year. Already. Trust me, Mom was _not_ pleased. But since when was Mom ever pleased with me? So I guess it doesn't matter anyway.

Tori took her pop out of her mouth for a few seconds to say:

"Come on Lauren, aren't you gonna come sit next to me?" Tori asked me eagerlly.

"Yeah, yeah," I said coming out of my thoughts, "Just hold on a sec."

"O.K. than," she said popping her lolly pop back in her mouth and taking her usual seat, in the third row, fifth seat.

I scanned the mostly vacant seats. The majority of the class was planted throughout the halls gossiping their loud mouths off despite the yells of "Get to class people!" coming from the teachers as they urged packs of chatting girls to get a move on.

It was unheard of to enter the classroom before the second bell rang: unless you had "buisness" to attend to. And buisiness was exactly what Casey Benting was up to.

Casey had squeezed herself into Matthew McCurry's chair and was botting her eyelashes and giggling. She wore a super tight, pink shirt with a disgustingly short mini skirt. She replaced a misplaced strand of her thick, brown, hair behind her ear and chatted onto Matthew, giggling every other word.

Matthew was grinning and nodding his head to Casey's babbling. Every few moments his eyes would drift down to Casey's lip glossed lips.

For being the considered smartest guy in the ninth grade, he acted pretty stupid around Casey. It wasn't like they were even together. If Casey didn't pull the same thing on at least twelve other boys in a days time, she would be sent to the nurse, something clearly wrong with her.

Despite how disgusted I was at the sight of them, I had told myself I would confront Matthew about his homework assignments and honestly tell him it was to much work and that I didn't grasp what he was attemting to teach me, at all.

I walked up to the seat, keeping my eyes set on the unpleasant sight of two beings sitting in a chair meant for one.

They were inches from eachother and now Casey was gazing at Matthew's lips, biting her own.

I cleared my throat as I stood right next to them. Casey turned her head sharply, eyebrows raised, her bushy hair moving with her. Matthew pried his eyes from Casey and seemed to come out of a stupor as he looked at me.

"Um, Matthew," I said briskly, "We gotta talk about this whole tutoring thing-" I was inturrupted by Casey who was obviously annoyed.

"Lauren, do you have anything better to do than badger poor Matthew?" She glanced sideways at him, her tounge between her teeth.

I was surprised for two reasons. One, I was shocked to know that she actually new my name. Two, she used a semi-inteligent word, badger.

I was getting pissed now.

"Uh, yeah I do!" I said raising my voice a little,"Do you think I enjoy getting tutored by this guy?" I was inturrupted again except this time, by Matthew.

"Lauren, not now. We'll talk some other time." He said calmly.

I stared at them for a few seconds, my face looking as annoyed as ever. Matthew was starintg back, waiting for me to leave him and Casey alone. Casey was squirming uncomfortably in their seat, impatient to have Matthew's attention focused on her again.

"Fine!" I said sharply, before huffing away, making sure to let my book bag swing right by them.

I shook my head, jaw clenched as I found my seat next to Tori. I sat down roughly, my arms crossed, staring at the ceiling, not in the mood for talking with Tori.

"Are you O.K.?" Tori asked glancing up from her note book, eyeing me closely.

"I'm fine," I said, still angry.

I was so sick of Casey. Casey and her ugly, pink, shirts and slutty mini skirts, flirting with every guy she layed her eyes on. She couldn't turn her stupid charm off for two seconds so that I could have a quickly-as-possible-word with Matthew. And it's not as if I liked talking to him, if I could avoid him I would.

I snatched up a pen that was on my desk and began scribbling violently on an open page in my notebook. 


	3. The Seventh Time

1

**Okay third chapter! If you read please review! ) Hope you like.**

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I scribbled hard with my pen till there was a satisfying tear through three sheets of paper. I ripped the pages out of my notebook loudly, causing several, nosey, people to glance behind them. I glared back till they looked away. I ripped the paper into shreds and stuffed it into my book bag.

I felt a little cooled off, though not literally due to the temperature of the room. I looked over at Tori who was bust scrawling across the pages of her notebook. I didn't get what she found so interesting about this place.

Stephanie finally entered the classroom closely followed by a girl who's hand was grasped tightly in a tall boy's hand. The girl had dirty blond hair that she always wore straight which lay naturally over her blue and white stripped polo. Her name was Holly Mititus. Everyone knew the name Holly Mititus. Holly had to be the most popular girl at school. She was friendly with everyone and always looked her best. She always seemed to say just the right thing. Holly was every guy's dream date and every girl's fantasy best friend. But she wasn't an air head like Casey. She always got good grades and it was obvious she took pride in her school work. I didn't hate her like I hated Stephanie and Casey, but we never talked. The reason for that she's a two-faced fake, like most people around here, I just never wanted to talk to her and I made that clear. Why would I want to get involved with her when I hate her whole network of friends? Sometimes I think Holly has to many friends for her own good. But it's not like it's my business anyway.

Holly was dating Evan, easily the most popular boy at Rivermound. He was good looking and captain of the football team. Every time a dance came around he would have girls begging on their names to take them. It was kind've pathetic really. But every dance, for the past two years, Evan would escort Holly to every single dance. The two of them must be the longest lasting couple in the history of Rivermound High School. Seriously, the average couple at Rivermound barely lasts a week.

Holly and Evan stopped walking and faced each other in the classroom doorway. They kissed for a few seconds, their eyes closed, lost in a world of their own. The kiss ended and Holly said to him, "See you later." She smiled her beautiful smile before Evan ran off to get to his first period class.

Holly sat down and was immediately surrounded by a circle of people.

I rolled my eyes.

Stephanie strolled over to Matthew and Casey who were still sitting in the same seat, and began to try and bribe Matthew to give her the answers to the social studies homework due in a few periods. But Matthew seemed a little preoccupied with Casey.

Mr. Longo strolled into the room casually, late as always.

"Alright, alright, take your seats people and Raul get your hands off my bulletin board," Mr. Longo said in his highly annoying voice that always agitated me.

Casey grumpily squeezed out of Matthew's seat, smoothing the back of her skirt as she stood up and plopped down in her seat across from Matthew.

"O.K, class. I hope you studies last night."

Please, like I had three hours to devote to studying on top of freakin Matthew's homework.

"Because," Mr. Longo said pausing to shove some loose papers into his desk., "Today I will give each and every one of you a problem to solve. And you do not get the whole period to answer, just to let your know," Mr. Longo said with an expression on his face that stated he knew a couple of students would no doubt take the whole period to solve a math problem if they could. "Easy enough, right?" He asked the class who raised their eyebrows and rolled their eyes.

Great. I hate being put on the spot. Especially in Math which I positively suck at.

I noticed Casey in front of me paying no attention whatsoever to Mr. Longo, but flirting away with Matthew. Poor Matthew was trying, and failing, to keep his eyes on Mr. Longo. It was as if Casey was determined to distract the whole class with her flirting techniques. I clenched my jaw and wrenched my eyes off her. She could piss me off _so_ bad sometimes.

"Stephanie, your up first!" Mr. Longo said leaning across his desk to watch her, amused.

Stephanie looked up from her nails which she had been observing intently.

"Uggh!" Stephanie let out giving Mr. Longo a pure evil look. "But Mr. Longo, I-"

"You know miss, I am really not in the mood for your excuses. Now shall we just get to the point?" Mr. Longo said getting up out of his chair and taking the cap off a red marker to draw a problem on the dry erase board. "Now what do you get when line x crosses line y. . . . . ."

I completely lost it after that. Geometry is so pointless. How exactly will it ever benefit our lives?

Stephanie stared at the board, her perfectly shaped eye brows raised.

"Dude, I don't know-" she said but was cut off by a now extremely amused Mr. Longo.

"Wow," Mr. Longo said, laughing a little, "Never been called 'dude' by before. But I guess there's a first for everything now isn't there?"

A few people laughed.

"Stephanie, I would like an answer now unless you would like a failing grade." Mr. Longo said starting to get impatient. Stephanie flipped her long, brown, hair and through up her hands.

"I don't' know!" said loudly.

"Fine than," Mr. Longo said as the class saw him scroll a big zero in the grade booj." He looked down the list of names in the grade book. "Aaah, Lauren, your turn."

I looked up, surprised as always to hear my name called.

"Would you please satisfy us by stating the proper solution to the same problem Miss Cohlear failed to answer."

I stared at the board. What the hell did all those lines mean?

Out of the corner of my eye I see Casey giggling and attempting to hold Matthew's hand despite the fact that they were in two different seats.

I tired to concentrated on the boards and force an answer into my head.

Casey giggled openly as Matthew flashed a smile at her.

But that was it. I had had enough of Casey.

Rage started to build up inside of me.

"Casey, shut up. SHUT UP! I am so disgustingly sick of you! Can't you flick the switch to your flirt machine off for _two seconds_ so I can answer the freakin question?"

It just blurted out of my mouth, uncontrollably. I felt my cheeks flushed. The whole class was staring at me, their mouths open, like clueless fish. Casey looked the most like a clueless fish out of all of them. She stared at me as if I was from a different universe.

"Casey, that is quite enough out of you. I don't know who you think you are young lady," Mr. Longo said angrily, glaring at me."Go to the detention room, now."

I snatched up my book bag and walked towards the door, keeping my eyes anywhere but on the faces staring at me. I roughly wrenched the door open and lat it slam behind me.

I stormed down the hall. You have got to be kidding me. This is the _seventh time_ I've landed myself in detention this year. Great. Just, great. Could this get any more unfair? How come Casey could get away with practically making out with Matthew in the middle of class, yet _I'm_ the one who gets detention for speaking out and saying exactly what was on everyone's mind. I was just the only one who had the guts to say it. I really couldn't care less what Casey and her fake friends thought.

I strode up to room 133. I grasped the cold, silver doorknob and turned it, opening the door. I stepped in to the dark, gloomy room with it's familiar, gray walls. Seats filled the small room. But the chairs were all vacant. Which made sense I reminded myself. How many people got detention the first ten minuets of first period?

I walked up to the front of the room where Miss Stacie or "The Detention Lady", as most people called her, sat flipping through today's newspaper. Ms. Stacie was a women in her early to mid forties. She had dark red hair that was styled nicely. Black rimmed glasses sat upon her nose like they always did when she read the newspaper. She wore a fair amount of make up that complemented her facial features. She looked up as I reached her desk.

"Ahh, Lauren. Gotten yourself in detention again have you? What did you do this time?" Ms. Stacie asked, interested.

"I-I lost my temper," I admitted, surrendering to the fact that I deserved to be here. "But it was for a perfectly good reason. And I don't regret it," I added.

"Oh, I'm sure," Ms. Stacie said, neatly writing my name on the no longer bare sheet of paper.

"Sit down, hon" she said gesturing to the seat in front of her while taking a sip from her coffee cup.

I sat down roughly. I didn't bother to take my book bag off over my head, but just sat down with it still on. Ms. Stacie wasn't that bad. She wasn't that bad at all. In fact, in most cases I would rather sit here in detention with Ms. Stacie than be stuck in class. Ms. Stacie was nice. She never interrupted me with "better opinions" like most people would, and she always listened to what I had to say. But still, Mom wouldn't be exactly thrilled to hear that I got myself into a seventh detention. But I didn't get myself into it. Casey Benting got me into it. A quick wave of fury flowed through me at the thought of her, but I shook it off

I leaned back in my chair, my arms fully crossed. I looked around the dark room. There was nothing really to look at. The room had a sort of office building feel to it with it's dull, gray walls. The reason why the room was always shrouded in a gloomy darkness was because the white blinds of the window were always closed. They were always closed because if you so much as touched the blinds they would collapse in a heap on the floor. I've seen Ms. Stacie trying, and failing, to open the blinds to let some sunshine in the morose room. Ms. Stacie says the school is just too lazy to buy new blinds. I agree.

I glanced at the clock hanging on the wall to the left of me. Ten minuets had passed since Mr. Longo sentenced me to detention.

"So tell me Lauren," Ms. Stacie said "What exactly did you do to get yourself in here once again?"

I sighed grumpily, though thankful for Ms. Stacie's concern. Or was it amusement?

I retold the happenings of this morning. I admit, it feels refreshing to have someone to explain the anger and frustration too.

"Oh, I see," Ms Stacie said, now definitely looking amused. "Yes, I can see how that girl can get on your nerves. The few times that teachers actually have sent her here for her inappropriate intentions in class she was, shall I say, a rather painful pain in the rear."

I almost laughed out loud hearing Ms. Stacie refer to Casey like that. I could so picture Casey using desperate attempts to catch the attention of some dude in detention.

The next fifteen minuets went by faster than I thought they would. Detention really wasn't that bad talking to Ms. Stacie. When the bell rang signaling the end of first period I half wished I could stay in the dark and gloomy yet Casey-free room.


End file.
